My Job at the Calendar Factory
I worked at the calendar factory.
I loved it in so many ways.
To color the numbers was always
the highlight of all of the days.
But, one day, I felt pretty lousy.
I had a bad cold and a cough.
They fired me then from the factory
for trying to take a day off.
I went to the doctor that morning.
He said, “It’s a good thing you’re here.
It looks like your days are now numbered.
I’d give you six months to a year.
“I wish that your life could be longer
but that’s not the case, I’m afraid.
You might live till March or till April.”
It’s fair to say I was dismayed.
For fourteen days I was too weak.
But then I got better somehow,
and I’ve walked away from that factory.
Those days are behind me for now.
— Kenn Nesbitt
Copyright © 2023. All Rights Reserved.
Reading Level: Grade 3
About This Poem
I realize not everyone loves poems, but I sure do, which is why I wrote this poem. In every single stanza of this poem about working at a calendar factory, there is at least one pun about calendars. The first one is about coloring the number on the calendar being the “highlight” of the days, because “highlighting” means coloring something with a marker to make it stand out, but a highlight is also the best or brightest part of a day or an event. Can you find the rest of them?
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